


Small Conquests

by TonyPie17



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture, Fluff, Hobbit Culture thrown in, M/M, courting, kink meme fill, slightly ooc Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2418365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyPie17/pseuds/TonyPie17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a conversation with a few of the Dwarves, Bilbo tries his hand at braiding Thorin's hair in his sleep. The end result is satisfying, but nothing more so than Thorin's reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Conquests

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this prompt on the hobbit kink meme; http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=22751467
> 
> Maybe not as fluffy as was supposed to be?

Bilbo Baggins would see hardship and tribulations before the Quest for Erebor finished. Many would ask questions as to how he managed to keep his sanity during the entire affair as well as what possessed him to do the one thing that no one ever expected of a Gentlehobbit from the Shire. That one thing was court and marry a Dwarf of Erebor, and even then, he courted and married the one person that shocked even his friends. Thorin Oakenshield, the King Under the Mountain (who, at the time of the courtship, had no mountain).

And whenever Bilbo sits down with the young Dwarfling children, he explains to them just how he became Consort Under the Mountain as well as gave them little lessons on their own culture and heritage.

Everything had started with braids, of course.

[][][][][]

Bilbo had been sitting around a fire with Bofur, Gloin, Bombur, and Bifur, the last of the four Dwarves practically attached to Bilbo’s side and whittling away at a suspiciously pipe shaped piece of wood after Bilbo had made him a particularly delicious salad for the two of them. The way Bifur had sat so close to Bilbo had sparked the conversation between Bofur and Bombur, and Gloin had joined in when he overheard someone say something about marriage.

“Dwarves have some rather odd customs, don’t they? I’ve never heard of any other being going through such a long and tedious courting process,” Bilbo stated with a bit of a confused smile.

“Aye, some might agree with ya, lad,” Gloin nodded, “But it’s always worth it in the end! Especially if the person turns out to be yer one!”

“Not all of us are so lucky, though,” Bofur shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, the process isn’t nearly as long if you manage to catch them when sleeping,” Bombur had said. Bilbo looked even more confused at this.

“Catch them when they’re sleeping… to do what?” he asked.

“Why, to braid their hair of course!” Gloin shook his head as if the answer had been obvious. Bofur merely rolled his eyes at the warrior’s antics; it wasn’t like Bilbo was supposed to know what that meant.

“What he means, Bilbo, is that if ye can manage to braid the hair of the person ye wanna court, they have to consider the courtship,” he explained.

“Skips over a lot of traditional steps, though,” Bombur hummed; he began fiddling with one of the braids in his own red hair.

“How come?” Bilbo frowned. Dwarves seemed to be all about tradition. Why would they ever want to skip anything?

Bifur grunted something and then stated what he was trying to say in Iglishmêk. Bofur nodded his head along with what his cousin was saying, though that didn’t really help Bilbo as he wasn’t well-versed in Iglishmêk aside from knowing a few gestures taught to him by wandering Dwarves in the Shire.

“Right ya are, cousin. For many Dwarves who aren’t as well versed in a specific craft yet, braiding the hair of the one ye want in their sleep allows Dwarrows to prove their worth in ways other than smithing or whittling,” Bofur relayed. Bifur nodded once his explanation had been given, and then blew a few wood shavings off the pipe he had carved. He looked at Bilbo, seeming to size him a bit, and then handed the pipe over. Bilbo, mildly surprised, smiled and thanked Bifur for the gift. He’d come to figure out that some things were given simply as a gesture between friends, while others were declaration of intent. All of the knowledge was welcome, especially in his own pursuit of the heart.

“Are Dwarves not heavy sleepers? I’ve seen some of you at night; it takes all but a battle to wake you!” he asked now.

“Well, most of us are, sure,” Bofur looked pointedly at Bombur and Gloin, one huffing with a look of pride and the other smiling in a somewhat sheepish manner, “But in cases like Dwalin’s or Thorin’s or Nori’s, it would be impossible to braid their hair while sleeping. Wake up at the slightest movement, they do. But no one’s ever tried before, far as I know.”

Bilbo felt gears in his mind turning before Bofur had even finished speaking. He glanced around the encampment, under the guise of inspecting each Dwarf, but really his eyes fell on a single Dwarf alone. Their company’s leader sat stoically beside Balin and Fili, the three of them speaking on a matter Bilbo couldn’t quite hear himself. His eyes followed the sharp features of Thorin’s face before falling on the black and white streaked hair. He looked away quickly when he thought Thorin’s eyes flashed up, and then looked back at Bofur.

“-adding in gems and declarations,” Bofur had been saying.

“Hm?” Bilbo’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t been listening.

“I said, the real task usually comes from adding in gems or beads as declarations without tugging or pulling on the Dwarrow’s hair,” Bofur repeated. He looked at Gloin this time.

“Tis true, I must say. I tried once; my One nearly took my head off when I tugged a braid wrong!” Gloin laughed heartily, reminiscing with a smile.

“I-I see.” Bilbo’s heart deflated a bit. Even if he did manage to braid Thorin’s hair in his sleep, how could he do so without adding something to declare what he meant? The moment he tried to braid anything in, Thorin would wake, surely!

Bifur grunted and signed something else and Bombur hummed in thought at what was possibly a proposal.

“Well, for nimble fingers, sure,” he agreed.

“What’d he say?” Bilbo asked, for he felt he had rather nimble fingers if he did say so himself.

“He only said that it might not be as hard if a Dwarrow with quick hands used something other than gems or beads, like flowers or fabric,” Bombur explained.

“S’not unheard of, but it is uncommon,” Bofur added in.

Bilbo didn’t hear much after that, his mind immediately wandering to just what he could do with his own nimble fingers after learning that new piece of information. A plan began to formulate in his mind, swirling and taking shape as he plotted out the items he would need.

It wasn’t until nearly two weeks later that Bilbo got any opportunity to enact the plan he’d come up with. It was the night after leaving Rivendell that Bilbo put his plan into motion. He had taken the flowers he’d needed (with permission and a curious grin from Lord Elrond) and kept them tucked safely away in his bag. When they had settled for camp that night, just as merry as any other day, Bilbo had waited patiently and quietly.

He helped with supper and partook in any conversations that the others called him into and when time for bed he lied down just as the others had, pretending to doze off until he heard the tell-tale snoring from the others that told him they were sleeping. Then, he sat up and moved out of his bedroll, placing a finger over his lips in a shushing gesture when Balin looked confused at his actions.

Bilbo moved swiftly and silently over to their Company’s leader, who was lying down on his own bedroll with his eyes closed and his brow knit together. What he could possibly be dreaming about Bilbo had no idea. But that was not where his focus lied at the moment; right then, he was more concerned with the hair that was laid out around Thorin’s head like a black and white halo. He resisted an almost wistful sigh and then began to go to work.

Gathering a bit of hair and drawing on his knowledge of plaiting his younger, female, cousins’ hair, Bilbo began to weave a bit of an intricate braid. His cousins had always liked complicated, Bilbo figured that Thorin might as well. He stopped here and there when it seemed that Thorin would wake, but the King would always simply shift in his sleep. At one point he moved and Bilbo found his work trapped, and he’d had to wait until Thorin moved again before he could continue.

Getting the flowers in proved slightly difficult, adding a challenge to what could have been a simple task. He had to weave them in in places where they wouldn’t poke Thorin in the temple (for Bilbo was sure that if they touched Thorin at any point the Dwarrow would wake and become angry). Each time a petal brushed Thorin’s cheek or tickled along his nose, Bilbo stilled entirely. He continued when Thorin did nothing but twitch his nose or (at one point) lean toward the touch.

At last Bilbo finished his work, and admired the braid with the three different types of flowers in it. two white flowers, a single red flower, and one yellow flower. With a bit of Hobbit ingenuity, he’d pressed and preserved a piece of an oak leaf and managed to get that into the braid as well.

The braid looked… becoming on Thorin. Though that wasn’t to say that Thorin wasn’t always becoming anyway, because he most certainly was.

Finished with his admiring, Bilbo turned to look back at Balin, who looked stunned to say the least. Though once he noticed that Bilbo was looking at him, he smiled and beckoned the lad over. Bilbo, thinking he may have done something wrong, stepped over to Balin, looking entirely too confused to be scared. Balin patted beside himself, gesturing for Bilbo to sit. The Hobbit did so.

“You know what you’ve done, yes?” Balin asked. Bilbo looked over at Thorin, who shifted again, and then nodded.

“I had a conversation with Bofur, Gloin, and Bombur about it,” he explained, “and thought I’d try my hand. But now I’ve very much lost my confidence.”

Balin chuckled quietly and patted Bilbo’s arm as gently as was possible for a Dwarf. “Don’t worry, laddie. I’m sure Thorin will find your actions very flattering.”

Bilbo blinked in shock to hear the words. He then turned a slight pink. Mumbling out a “good night” he went back to his bedroll and took a seat. Glancing over at the Dwarf King once more, Bilbo laid down for a fitful sleep, his dreams plagued with possible rejection.

In the morning, Thorin woke to the soft brushing of his hair against his cheek. The feeling wasn’t unusual, but it was the placement of the hair that made him frown and sit up. His hand came up and he felt along the side of his head until his hand came to a braid. Intricate in design, he brought it around to get a better look at it, and was surprised to see the flowers woven in as well. He also recognized the green of an oak leaf, and the sight made him wonder two things.

One, why had anyone braided the flora into his hair, and two, who had braided his hair in the first place?

His first thought was that it was possibly Dwalin, the only person who had ever managed to get the jump on him while sleeping. But then Thorin remembered that Dwalin would never have given Thorin a braid of intent, which was so obviously what this was. Left side of the head, coming down above his heart? Someone clearly wanted to court him. His mind remembered the flowers and he thought for a moment that maybe it had been Bifur. But the axe-headed Dwarf could never have done such a braid without Thorin noticing.

The final person Thorin’s mind came to, who had quiet feet and nimble fingers as well as an affinity for flowers was the Company’s Burglar. Thorin looked over to Master Baggins then, his brow furrowing when he noticed the Hobbit doing a bit of tossing and turning. Briefly, the thought flashed in his mind that the Halfing was possibly having a nightmare, just before Bilbo’s eyes flashed open and he sighed.

Thorin looked away immediately, instead glancing over to Bombur, who was pattering about making breakfast for the Company as well as having had last watch for the night. Bilbo seemed to notice Bombur as well, as he stood and stretched, beginning to head over to possibly help Bombur.

Thorin had other plans for their dear Burglar.

“Master Hobbit,” Thorin called, and Bilbo stiffened. He turned around slowly to meet Thorin’s eyes, his own wide with fear.

“Yes?” Bilbo asked. Thorin gestured for him to come over. Bilbo did so, trying not to let his fear externalize. He didn’t need Thorin knowing just how afraid of rejection he was.

“I awoke this morning to find this braid in my hair,” Thorin began, fingering the braid a bit. Bilbo watched his hands, waiting for Thorin to possibly undo the braid and pull the flowers out. When Thorin didn’t, his eyes flickered back to the King’s face.

“Have you any idea of what this means?” Thorin continued. Bilbo nodded.

“I’ve spoken with a few of the others on the matter. I understand braids are… important to Dwarves,” he said. Thorin hummed, seemingly unsatisfied with Bilbo’s explanation. The Hobbit sighed.

“I asked Fili and Kili. They told me that Dwarves give each other a braid that declared their intention on the left side.” He looked at the braid now, noticing when Thorin’s fingers stroked over the petals of the flowers.

“That would be correct. So tell me, Master Baggins,” something of a small smile crossed over Thorin’s face, on of the Dwarf’s eyebrows raised in question, “were you declaring your intention to court me when you braided my hair in the night?”

Bilbo gulped, finding that the smile on Thorin’s face made his heart stutter. “Y-Yes?”

“Interesting.”

Thorin said no more than the simple word, leaving Bilbo to wonder what it meant. Was Thorin mocking him? No, if he were, he would do it with less of a smile and more of a snarl. Was he… Was he accepting Bilbo’s proposal?

“Master Baggins-”

“Bilbo,” Bilbo said on impulse. If they were going to talk about this he wanted Thorin to use his name.

“Very well. _Bilbo_. I had intended to wait until after we had reclaimed Erebor to speak with you on matters of the heart, but it would seem that now is as fine a time,” Thorin stopped to reach into his furs. He produced a small bead, one whittled from wood with runes carved into it. “Come closer.”

Bilbo moved closer to Thorin, his face heating up from the sudden close proximity and tried to keep still as he felt Thorin gather some of the longer hair at his left temple and corral the unruly locks into a braid. He kept it shut with the bead at the end. The entire affair took only minutes, but most of the Company was now awake and moving about, and some were watching the scene play out.

“There,” Thorin stated once finished. Bilbo’s own hand came up and touched the braid, his fingers playing with the little bead.

“What does it mean?” he asked, though he had a hunch he already knew. Thorin let another smile grace his features, making Bilbo’s heart once again flutter in his chest.

“It means I accept.”


End file.
